


Voicing Silence

by gala_apples



Series: Rentverse [2]
Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Activism, Alternate Universe - High School, Gay Rights, Gen, Muteness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-28
Updated: 2011-12-28
Packaged: 2017-10-28 10:13:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/306797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gala_apples/pseuds/gala_apples
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mikey does it because he thinks Gerard would want him to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Voicing Silence

**Author's Note:**

> This small scene is the reason approximately 75k of this 'verse exist.
> 
> Also, this scene is repeated from Frank's point of view in Truths He Learned.

Mikey's not usually one for big gestures. But he hears about this thing and thinks Gee would be really proud. So he shows up at school, hair sprayed perfectly to his face, thumbs tucked into torn away thumb holes in his hoodie, belt tight against even tighter jeans, with a piece of duct tape over his mouth. Because it's showy, and Mikey doesn't really care about oppression, but Gerard does.

He gets crap in homeroom, Simmons tells him to take it off. She uses her 'show some respect' voice. He's not used to getting it; normally they don't even notice him. The tape stays firmly on his mouth, but he does walk to the front of the room and show her his placard. She frowns as she reads it, but lets him go back to his seat. It'd be discriminatory or some shit if she didn't, and with thirty years of teaching under her belt she probably has a great sense of when to let shit drop.

He's got a spare second period, and by the time he's in third it's obvious the teachers have conferred. The staff room: a den of gossip and evil and coffee. Marks, the drama teacher, has clearly informed his most beloved students; there's a rash of well painted and dyed kids walking around with their hands over their mouths. Mikey guesses he should appreciate it. After all, it's what this is about, making a show. Who better than Gabe Saporta to join it?

Mikey makes it through most of the day without being bothered. He watches Ryland steal a whiteboard out of some freshman's locker and proceeds to explain the situation to his audience. Then he tries to explain it to the jocks, and ends up hitting one of them in the head with the whiteboard when they use a certain phrasing. Ryland gets suspended, but everyone knows that it’s Brock who is in trouble. Gabe and Vicky are not the sort of people you want to piss off.

The second to last class is study hall, according to his time table. What that usually means is time to slap on headphones and ignore the world for forty-five minutes – unless he's got homework to be done. It's rare, but possible. He's probably not going to make it into university, but it would be good to keep his options open a little longer.

Mikey slaps on Placebo and considers his English questions. They're five percent of the grade, but he fucking hates short stories. Such a waste of time and it's only worth five percent of the whole semester's mark. Still, it would be easy enough to crank some shitty answer out, and it's five percent that could give him a 53 instead of a 48.

His grade calculating is interrupted by somebody dive-bombing the seat next to him. He's not surprised at all that it's Frank. Frank is the crazy guy in his gym class, the tiny guy that looks like a run around the track would fucking kill him, but somehow always turns his manic energy into first place wins. He's a rare breed, the sort of person that's an athlete but not a jock. He fucking talks to Joe Trohman, for fucksakes. _Nobody_ does that, except for his little group of weirdos. Not that Mikey's against groups of weirdos. He sincerely hopes Gee's managed to make his own in university. It's just a measure of how non-jock-y Frank is.

"So, what's that about?" he gestures to his mouth, and Mikey rolls his eyes, because _really_. Even if he wanted to, how the fuck would he tell him?

"Okay, point. Come." His hand is on his shoulder, and Mikey isn't used to this sort of casual touch – at least not at school. With Gerard it's different, they touch like they breathe. At whatever club he's sneaking into it’s different, because that's the point, the music and the touching. But school isn't a place for it; school is for duck-and-cover, making sure the little attention he attracts is only from the right people. It's shock more than anything that gets Mikey to stand.

Frank tugs Mikey from the spread of tables over to the double row of computers against the wall. He logs in, _fiero_ , a long string of tiny dots like he actually cares whether or not people guess his password. Mikey didn't know his last name before, it's vaguely irritating he's got his own name while he has to be _mway21_ because Way isn't original enough to have him as the only student.

"I'm just gonna haveta figure this out myself." He pulls up Google and types in 'crazy motherfuckers with duct tape'. He scrolls down the page, clicks 2 on the bottom and scrolls again.

"It's all fuckin blogs and lyrics. What the hell?"

Mikey takes pity on him. He stretches over Frank to awkwardly type, elbow digging into the smaller boy's thigh as he plucks at the keyboard with his right hand. 'Day of silence'.

He doesn't watch Frank read the Wiki article, but he can tell when it's done by the scoff he makes. "That's it? That's why Ryland took out Brock?"

He doesn't know why he cares, but he really hopes that Frank doesn't think it's bullshit. There's something in him that wants Frank to not be a bastard. He doesn't let himself react when Frank walks away without even saying anything, like he's going to catch bisexuality by being too near Mikey. Pathetic. It's so fucking lame. He doesn't know why he's shocked that people suck.

He skips tracks until he's back at 'I Know'. It's bitter, and it settles around his shoulders like a cloak. He decides against the English homework. Fuck it.

Frank seriously needs to stop with the hand on the shoulder caring priest thing. He's sixteen, and male, and it's creepy. That is, if Mikey cared about what Frank does, which he doesn't. It kind of hurts that he can't tell Frank to fuck off, but the honest part of him reminds him he probably wouldn't anyway. He'd just stay silent and stare until the person went away – which is really fucking applicable here, so he shrugs out of the light grip and stays still.

"Do you know few people actually have Sharpies here? You know I had to go all the way to the fuckin' art hallway? Ridiculous. You'd think there'd at least be someone wanting to vandalise the bathroom or something."

It is actually a bit surprising, but Mikey doesn't _care_. He just wants him to fuck off.

"Anyway, w'ad you think? I didn't think I'd be able to shut up, but this could work. Right?" Mikey doesn't know what he's talking about, and reminds himself that he doesn't care. But he still looks up, to see what Frank is talking about.

His shirt, his bright red expensively logoed shirt is inside out. And scrawled over the chest where you can still kind of see the white logo is written 'homophobia is gay' in messy black lines. Mikey's lips twitch under the tape. It would be a smile, if anyone could see it.


End file.
